AZ Chike - Look Like My Mama (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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AZ Chike - Look Like My Mama (en) Lyrics
by RentAnAdviser.com
Yeah (One, two, three, let's go)
Bitch, I look just like my mama
Tick-tick, time to heat
it up like a sauna
Your negro hit cha-cha, lil'
dance like La Bamba
Thumper might drop if I stomp
in these Converse
Why are you mad, lil' bitch?
Get some commas
Pitty-pat pockets lookin'
celiac, kitty fat
Ayy, Chike, bro, let's
bring the city back
Really that guy (Hmm),
what he really on?
Shit, for now, call me Mr.
Hundred Million, goddamn
Bet a bitch get tired before
I stop throwin' money
Bitch, this thuggin' in my
veins, don't need it tatted
on my stomach, dawg
Call it pita bread, big
bag, I mean hummus
Never stress about a bitch,
I re-up in three months
Thеn I take one step back,
and tеn forward
I let niggas copy me, copy that, 10-4
Hoes sent, send the text, these
hoes weak, send more, nigga
(One, two, three, let's go)
Bitch, I'm sorry, snuck
it in the party
Said you're getting guap,
niggas lyin' like safari
Hate when a bird ask questions,
like, "What are we?"
Got me runnin' with that long stick
in hand like Sha'Carri (Uh)
P-noid, I don't play 'round
Brodie said he'll swing and
slide for me, he a playground
(Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Bitch, I'm too rich to use
a Zelle or a PayPal
I stuff so many bitches in the
Rolls, shit a Greyhound (Hm)
I dot my I's but I'll never
cross my nigga T (Nigga)
They just starin' 'cause they scared,
you know how niggas be
You hittin' send on a Tweet,
nigga, hit the streets
I wake up and thank God for makin'
me what I'm meant to be
I don't even play fair,
niggas know what's up
Catch a opp in the club,
might blow it up
I'm from the land, where you
from? Nigga, throw it up (One,
two, three, let's go)
Ayy, ayy, baby, I'm the keyboard
killer, tour seat filler
Mr. New Ting in the G4 with her
Big feet, big league, you's a D4 nigga
Me and Jasper, the purple
and gold floor sitter
Errybody sittin' front row ain't a fan
Errybody that you cool
with ain't ya mans
Niggas jealous of me, still
shook my momma hand
Fuck all that business, under
ten toes, I stand, nigga
Bitch, I smell like new money,
yeah, sponsor shoe money
In her throat like Throat Coat,
tea bags and two honeys
Only do what niggas dream
of or can't even imagine
Try to throw me off my pivot but
the check say New Balance
Let me loose, huh, let me through
Hoppin' the fence to the top,
T came gave me a boost
Niggas boof, chop the deuce,
I do movies, you do spoofs
Consider this shit easy math the
way I calculate my moves, uh
(One, two, three, let's go)
Ayy, nigga, CHROMAKOPIA,
I had my guard down
Crackers tried to say I only
rap about my cars now
I'm the only one who left the block
and turned the car 'round
And picked my niggas up, sorry
if I'm tryna bar out
Stop judgin' buddy loss if you don't
show him ways of winnin'
Stop sayin', "Free the homie,"
if you know that nigga did it
Is it ballot or the bullet? 'Cause
I'm votin' for the killin'
We gon' burn this bitch down, put the
fire to the ceilin', nigga, uh
Bitch, you know it's first
Sunday like Katt Williams
Blow her back out, then I hit
it while her back healin'
Catch 'em out back, backdoor
'em, then I'm back chillin'
Weak bitch, peaked in high school,
can't get back that feelin', uh
Yeah, that's right, the
wanna DAZN, box me in
But I ain't going without a fight
Bitch, the whip so white, I had
to let it read my rights
It be the niggas I'm better than sayin'
they can't see the hype, tough
(One, two, three, let's go)
Ayy, ayy, my mama prayed for me,
but I still keep blammer (Yup)
Your bitch is not bad, you
just have low standards
I'm him, bow down, nigga, where
is your manners? (Come on)
When I walk in, phone down, I
don't like cameras (Come on)
If that big fella catch
you, I can't help you
I'm Santa, got a big
bag with a elf, too
Two car keys, seven M's
on the belt loop
And I skrrt off, tires smell
like I melt boot
Big feet, big Chike, bitch,
I got big dick
Your attitude don't match your pockets,
wait a minute, big ick, ugh
Been called the blitz, she turned
around, hit stick, ugh
Career on tick, tick, tick,
tick, tick, boom
I got way too much confidence
for a bitch
I got way too much chip
and dip on a hoe
I got way too much, I can't
keep it on the low, hm
I got way too much, huh,
I got way too much
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